


Beyond the Wall

by shadowsfan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A little fluffy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 09:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2019369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsfan/pseuds/shadowsfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic was written for the GoT exchange on LJ the prompt was - Shireen goes exploring at the Wall</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> This is a blend of show and book canon. Devan Seaworth is present at the Wall as in the book but all the characters listed are there at the same time as in the show.

“Fuck me,” Shireen sighed to herself, suddenly understanding why Ser Davos was so fond of the expression.  She had heard him say it many times under his breath, usually when he was having difficulty pronouncing a particular word from one of her history books.  Once, Shireen had asked father about the meaning of the expression and he’d only scowled and appeared irritated by her question, telling her that it was a meaningless phrase used by people of low birth and that she should not repeat it.  When she had asked mother to explain it, she’d forced her to kneel and pray to R’hllor to forgive her for being such a sinful and rebellious child.  This morning, as she was browsing the pages of the same book she had read a thousand times and realizing that she would spend most of this day in her rooms in the King’s Tower, just as she had spent yesterday and the day before that, the phrase had come without thought to her lips.  Regardless of the meaning, it fit her mood somehow — and if it irritated her parents, then so much the better. 

 

They’d been at Castle Black for over a week and it had been nothing but work and more work for everyone, except for Shireen who was kept like a prisoner in the King’s Tower and told to stay out of everyone’s way.  Initially she had been excited to travel north to the wall, to see the wildlings, the brothers of the Night’s Watch and the wall itself.  On the day of her arrival she’d seen little of the castle, save for the courtyard.  The Wall towered above but disappeared into the low-hanging clouds, depriving it of most of its majesty.  There wasn’t a wildling in sight.  The brothers were all somber, as were the king’s men as they burned the bodies of the dead.  For the first time she’d felt afraid, forced to leave the familiar surroundings of her home to live here in this dark and desolate place.  Shireen had clung tightly to her mother, but the queen seemed lost in her own thoughts, quietly whispering prayers to R’hllor.  Afterwards, Shireen had been quickly escorted to her rooms and she hadn’t been let out since.  

 

As the days passed, her initial fears had been replaced by boredom.  She missed Dragonstone terribly, her books most of all.  She also missed the comparative freedom that she’d enjoyed on Dragonstone.  Though her parents had kept a close watch on her there as well, on Dragonstone she at least had the run of the castle, especially at night when her parents and most of the guards were asleep.  She’d explored every room and passageway, frequenting the former throne room to marvel at her beloved stone dragons.  She had even gone into her father’s solar on more than one occasion, to play with the ships that Ser Davos had carved for the painted table.  A few months ago, she’d even visited the Onion Knight in his dungeon cell when her father had locked him up, in order to bring him books.  Most of all she missed the company of familiar faces around her.  Daily lessons with the maester had ceased during the trip north.  Here at Castle Black, she had so many questions to ask, about the history of the castle and the Night’s Watch, about the wildlings, about the North and the war, but the only topic that interested her mother was R’hllor.  Her father was always out doing his duty, as was Ser Davos.  It seemed everyone had duties except for Shireen.  Despite the constant presence of guards Shireen felt more alone than ever.

 

The tedium of this particular morning was proving especially difficult to endure.  It had been snowing occasionally, in light intermittent showers since they’d arrived, but this morning she’d opened her shutters to reveal a coating of white that was everywhere.  _Snow!_ It was covering the ground, covering the pathways and still falling in beautiful fluffy flakes that left cold droplets on her upturned face as they floated in the window and melted.  All the blackened and ugly fortifications of the castle within her view had been made beautiful by the blanket of white.  She had experienced nothing like this on Dragonstone.  Her only thought was to run outside and immerse herself in the glorious whiteness.  Shireen’s heart sank when she imagined her mother’s response if she were to ask to go out and play in the snow.  Father had left them before sunrise, as was his custom, so nor was he available for her to seek permission.  Dejected, Shireen had closed her shutters before mother realized they’d been opened, and attempted to distract her thoughts with a book.

 

Shireen had resigned herself to her fate, wallowing in self-pity and mumbling the phrase borrowed from the Onion Knight, when she was startled by shouting from outside.  A quick glance into the outer room revealed the guards clustered at the windows, watching something happening below.  She opened her shutters again to discover a group of wildlings in the courtyard in an argument with some of the soldiers — her mother’s men from the look of them.  She’d heard talk of the wildlings being allowed through the Wall; many were against it, including her mother, but her father was involved in negotiations with them.  The wildlings’ appearance was fascinating to Shireen.  The men had long tangled hair and great beards much thicker than the one her father had grown since arriving in the north.  She longed for a closer look.  She wanted to see the wildlings, the castle and the snow, and not from her window inside the King’s Tower. 

 

Before she could talk herself out of it, Shireen had donned her warmest coat.   She easily slipped past the distracted guards and ran down the stone steps into the courtyard.  It wasn’t as if she was deliberately disobeying her parents.  They hadn’t actually told her _not_ to go outside.  She knew that she shouldn’t, not without asking permission, but then at this time of day mother was attending morning prayers with Lady Melisandre and Shireen vowed not to linger.  By the time mother returned she would be back in her room.  Surely they had a library here at Castle Black.  If anyone asked, she would tell them she was going to visit the maester and borrow a few of his books; if she encountered a wildling or two along the way, then even better.

 

Once outside, Shireen felt as if all eyes were upon her.  She knew that her high born style of dress made her conspicuous, and the scars on her face would instantly reveal her identity to anyone familiar with the royal family.  She drew her hood forward to better conceal her face.  Shireen ducked under an overhang on the tower wall, near where stairs rose to an elevated walkway that led toward the ruins of the former Lord Commander’s Tower.  She knew the tower was where the original library should have been, but now it had been badly damaged. _What if the books had been destroyed too?_  Quickly she rejected the notion.  Surely the brothers had made it a priority to save them, but where were they now? 

 

As she contemplated which direction to take, Shireen studied the wildlings, who were still in heated conversation with the guards across the courtyard from her position.  Her interest piqued when she noticed that one of them was a woman!  She had fiery red hair and clothing made out of animal skins.  Shireen had heard that the wildlings let women fight with them but she hadn’t actually believed it until now.  She thought that she might like to fight in a great battle one day, riding a dragon or perhaps a mammoth since they were in the north.  Ser Davos had told her tales of the wildlings, of giants and their mammoths.  She wondered if there might be a picture in one of the books, or better yet, she might catch a glimpse into the wildling camp if she could find the gate. 

 

Shireen was disturbed from her thoughts when she noticed one of the guards staring in her direction and decided that she should move on quickly.  She chose to follow the path toward the Lord Commander’s Tower but stayed below the walkway, trying her best to choose a route that had the least foot traffic.  She saw activity everywhere as men prepared for war.  Soldiers were practicing swordplay in the yard, great carts full of supplies were being moved over the stone pathways and masons were busy repairing the battle-damaged walls.  Men were everywhere and not a woman in sight, save for the wildling she had seen.  Mother had told her that the black brothers allowed no women at Castle Black.  That rule made Shireen’s presence here even more incongruous, although she had learned that children were often ignored by grownups and she hoped this would prove true in her situation.   Shireen did her best to stay out of the way and was grateful that she was able to move relatively unnoticed amid all the chaos.  

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Shireen caught a glimpse of movement going against the general flow of the others.  A soldier was approaching, the same one she’d seen watching her.  Obviously she’d been recognized.  Shireen quickened her step, trying to lose herself in the crowd.  As she passed a doorway, the door opened suddenly and a soldier with a bandaged head stepped outside.  Shireen managed to sidestep him and slip into the dimly lit room before he saw her.  Once inside, Shireen realized she’d entered the infirmary, where they’d taken the seriously wounded to be cared for.  There were more than a dozen men on pallets.  Some of the men lay shivering under thin blankets, some groaned and some didn’t move at all.  The smell was foul.  Shireen wanted to turn and flee but was afraid that the soldier might still be searching for her.  So she remained where she was, afraid to move.

“Are you looking for someone?”

Shireen noticed for the first time a young woman tending to one of the wounded men.  She appeared to be of low birth, dressed plainly, but Shireen thought she had kind eyes.

“No.  I just came in.  I was looking for the library.”

“Library, what’s that?”  The woman laughed in a shy way, studying Shireen curiously.

“It’s a place where books are kept.”

“You’d best be asking Sam about that.  He knows all about books.  He stepped out to tend to the ravens but he’ll be back.  What’s your name?”

“Shireen.  What’s yours?”

“Gilly.  You can read books then, at your age?”

“Of course I can.  Can’t you?”

“No, never had reason to learn.”

“I could teach you,” Shireen offered, excited at the possibility of making a new friend.

The woman smiled.  “Sam wants to teach me too but I don’t see a need for it.”

Shireen’s reply was interrupted by a baby’s cry.  “He’s hungry.”  Gilly looked at Shireen.  “Can you finish changing this dressing while I tend to the baby?”

“You want me to do it?”  Shireen asked nervously.  She wasn’t used to being asked to do anything for anyone, let alone something important.

“Have you never changed a dressing before?”  Gilly’s tone was curious, not mocking.

“No.  I don’t know how.”

“Just wash the wound first.  Use the water in that basin and wrap the clean cloth around his arm as tight as you can.”  Shireen did as Gilly instructed, proud of her accomplishment when finished.

“You’re the first woman I’ve seen at Castle Black, except for the wildling I saw today in the courtyard and I haven’t seen any babies.”  Shireen watched as Gilly nursed the child.

“Then I’m the second wildling woman you’ve seen today.”

“You’re a wildling?  You don’t look like one.”

“What does a wildling look like?”

“The woman I saw had red hair and wore animal skins.”

“All wildlings don’t have red hair and we don’t all dress alike.  I’m sure all ladies born south of the wall don’t wear such fine coats as yours.”

“No, they don’t.”

“What happened to your face?”  Gilly asked, staring at Shireen’s scars.

“I’ve had them since I was a baby,” Shireen answered vaguely, knowing that most strangers were frightened by the mention of greyscale.  She liked Gilly and didn’t wish to upset her.

Shireen wanted to ask Gilly more questions about what it was like to be a wildling, but was startled as the wounded man on the bed beside her moved.  She watched his face and realized he was staring at her with a look of recognition.  “Princess,” he whispered hoarsely.

“What did he call you?”  Gilly’s eyes widened.

“I should go.”  Shireen rose to her feet and added hurriedly, “I’ll ask permission to come back and visit.” 

She flew out the door before Gilly could question her further.  Shireen did not see the soldier that had been looking for her.  Briefly she considered returning to her rooms—, but only briefly.  She knew now that there was a man named Sam who knew where books were kept and that he was with the ravens.  If she could locate the ravens, then she would find Sam.  Armed with this new information, she continued on her way. 

 

This time Shireen paid more attention to the men that surrounded her.  Some of the soldiers she saw were injured, missing eyes and noses, arms and legs.  The pictures of battles in her books had not shown such images, although one did show a knight being eaten by a dragon.  On Dragonstone, she had been sheltered from the war, hearing only stories about her father’s battles; but here, the war was a reality.  With Castle Black secured, soon her father would be leaving again and with him Ser Davos and perhaps even Devan.  They would say it was their duty.  One or all of them might be injured like these men, or even killed.  Suddenly Shireen hated the war that had taken her far from home and would take her father from her once again.  She hated that it was her father’s duty to be king and it was her duty to be his heir, and most of all she hated the word _duty_ and the power that it held over the men in her life.

 

Rounding the ruins of a toppled wall, Shireen was surprised to hear laughter, a sharp contrast to her dark thoughts.  In the yard ahead she was shocked to see father’s squires, Devan Seaworth and Bryen Farring, and some of the younger Night’s Watch brothers pelting each other with balls of snow that they were packing together with gloved hands.  The boys were laughing and chasing each other and appeared to be having a wonderful time. 

 

Shireen’s cheeks flushed hot with anger that was mixed with a fair amount of envy.  Devan was always going on about his duties.  Lately he couldn’t be bothered to play with or visit her because he was too busy, and yet now he was running about in the snow having fun while she had been confined to her room.  More than that, how could anyone think of having fun while they were at war?  She was certain that her father would not approve.  And yet, it did look like fun, and she so wanted to play in the snow!  Although she felt guilty, the desire to join them moved Shireen’s legs forward.

“Princess Shireen.  May I ask why you are outside?” Devan appeared startled when he saw her approach.

“No you may not.”  Shireen didn’t attempt to hide her irritation, adopting a tone that she’d often heard her father use when he was displeased.  “May _I_ ask why you are playing frivolous games in the snow rather than attending to your duties?”

Bryen Farring snorted, “There’s no mistaking that she’s the king’s daughter.”

Devan frowned, clearly taken aback.  “I _am_ attending to my duties.  We are waiting for the king to return from his council meeting.”

Shireen bent down and clutched a fistful of snow, fascinated by how it compacted so easily within her hands.  “I will wait with you then.  I was watching you throw and your aim is terrible.  Perhaps I can do better.”

“Princess Shireen, this isn’t a game for ladies—” Devan’s words were cut short when Shireen flung a snowball directly at his face where it landed with a wet thud.

Shireen laughed at Devan’s gloriously stunned expression as he quickly wiped his eyes with a gloved hand and shook his head.  That would teach him to ignore her.  She was not the helpless child that everyone seemed to think she was.

“It seems that it _is_ a game for ladies.  I didn’t miss my target.”  Shireen gloated, relishing her victory a bit more than she should.

 

Some of the other boys were laughing now and Devan’s face, already red from the cold, turned a shade darker.  Shireen felt a twinge of guilt and was considering an apology when Devan scowled, reminding her of her father.  She felt a shiver of apprehension as Devan bent down to fill his hand with snow and patted it carefully into a sphere.  Having never been hit with a snowball before, she wasn’t sure whether it was painful or not. 

“Maybe I was too far away.  I can hardly miss the target at this range.” 

 

Shireen was backing away carefully but slipped and fell on her backside just as Devan unleashed his throw causing the snowball to sail over her head.  She heard it splat as it made contact with something behind her.  From her seated position she watched as Devan’s eyes widened in alarm and he dropped to his knees, as did Bryen Farring.  The other boys scattered like minnows in a tide pool. 

“Your Grace!”  Devan croaked.

Shireen turned her head to see her father frowning at his chest where the remains of the icy projectile were sliding down the fiery heart sigil emblazoned on his armor.  Ser Davos Seaworth stood at his side unable to suppress a wide grin.  Shireen clapped a hand over her mouth, unsure as to whether a gasp or a laugh was about to escape but certain that neither would be appreciated by her father.  She decided the best course of action was to remain silent.

Stannis scowled.   Reaching for his daughter, he helped her to her feet and examined her carefully for any sign of injury before turning his stern countenance toward Devan, who appeared to want to burrow into the snow and hide. 

“Shireen, would you please provide an explanation of why are you here, unattended, playing in the snow with my squires?”  Stannis’ irritation as well as his concern was evident in his tone, but he did not raise his voice.

“I’m sorry, Father, I only wanted to find the library, then I found Devan playing in the snow.  I know that it was wrong.  We are at war and there isn’t time for such useless activities.  I deserve to be punished.”

Stannis paused, and regarded Shireen for several long moments.  Shireen noticed for the first time that her father appeared very tired, with dark circles beneath his blue eyes.  He also looked a little sad.  She saw him exchange a look with Ser Davos but she couldn’t unravel its meaning.  When he continued, his tone was as stern as ever. 

“Do you think so?  Do Devan and Bryen deserve punishment as well?  Ser Davos, what would be a fair punishment for children playing in the snow during a war?”

Shireen watched as Ser Davos affected a serious expression, but she saw amusement in his brown eyes and his lips twitched slightly, betraying a hint of a smile. 

“I don’t know, Your Grace. That would be for you to decide.”

“Very well,” Stannis sighed.  Turning back to his squires he spoke loudly, “I must decide on a punishment.” Devan and Bryen lowered their heads, eyes boring holes into the snow. “The punishment for assaulting the king’s person is death, is it not, Ser Davos?” 

“I believe that it is, Your Grace.”  Davos readily agreed.

“Father, no!  It wasn’t Devan’s fault it was mine!”  Shireen cried, alarmed by Stannis’ words.  Surely he wouldn’t punish Devan so severely for such a small offense.

“Hush, Shireen!  I’ll not behead the lad.  Devan, Bryen, get on your feet.”  Both boys popped up immediately and presented themselves stiffly before the king, who stood with one hand on Shireen’s shoulder.  “My daughter is very willful but her safety is of the utmost importance.  If you should ever find her unattended, you will alert the guard immediately.”

“Yes, Your Grace. It will not happen again.”  They recited in unison.

“As for punishment, none of you have ever seen snow before and I’ll not begrudge you a few moments time to enjoy it, _especially_ during a war.” 

Noting Shireen’s confused expression, he added, “Children must grow up faster than they should during a war.  You’ll understand that when you are older.” 

Stannis nodded to Ser Davos, who dismissed the two boys, “Now that you’ve had your few moments of play, you lads may return to your duties.” 

 

Shireen clenched her jaw to keep from speaking.  She hated when her parents told her that she would understand when she was older, as if she were an ignorant child.  However, rather than risk making her father angry she remained silent.  She focused her attention back on her father, mentally preparing herself for the lecture that he was about to give.  Stannis did not disappoint.  “Selyse will have someone’s head if you fall ill.  I should punish you for leaving your rooms without permission, but I imagine that when your mother learns of this you will spend many hours praying for your sins and that should be punishment enough.  I want your word that in the future you will not go out without alerting the guard and your mother.”

“Yes, Father.”  Shireen considered herself lucky, but she suspected that a much longer speech from her mother was forthcoming.  She lowered her gaze and attempted to appear properly contrite—, but not before she’d noticed Ser Davos regarding her with sympathy in his brown eyes. 

“What possessed you to search for a library?  I was told you brought some of your books to Castle Black,” Stannis asked, his voice softening.

“All of my books are about Dragonstone and I wanted to read about Castle Black and the wildlings.”  Shireen sighed, frustrated that her attempt to venture outside had been thwarted.  There was still much that she wanted to see. 

Stannis turned to Davos. “Ser Davos, I’ll leave you to escort Shireen back to her rooms, then find out which of the guards allowed the princess to leave her quarters and see that they are adequately punished.”

Shireen had expected as much.  Of course she would be grateful for the company of Ser Davos, but she was disappointed that her father was once again too busy to spend time with her.  To Shireen’s surprise, the Onion Knight shook his head.  “Your Grace, if you remember, you charged me with seeing to the inventory of the storerooms.  I haven’t time to take the princess back to the King’s Tower, unless you want me to send someone in my place?”

Stannis gave Davos a long hard look before glancing at Shireen and then at the guards who stood behind Ser Davos.  Shireen wondered if he was about to order one of them to take her back when he shook his head, “No, there is no one else.  You attend to the inventory.  I will escort Shireen.”

Elated, Shireen grabbed her father’s hand before he could change his mind and began pulling him away.  He looked so tall and handsome in his armor, just like the knights from her books.  She had enjoyed exploring and playing in the snow, but holding the hand of her father, Shireen realized that she was the happiest that she’d been all day.  Glancing back at Ser Davos, Shireen wondered why he was smiling so broadly.  Surely an inventory of a storeroom was a tedious activity. 

“Father, may we stop by the infirmary on the way and see if Sam has returned?  Gilly said that he knows about books.”

Stannis frowned.  “Who are Sam and Gilly?  Why were you at the infirmary?” 

Shireen giggled.  At last she had her father’s attention and at last _she_ had a story to tell.

 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Vana for her excellent advice and editing skills!


End file.
